When the Perfect Vampire Wife Dies They All Fall

"Mother."

I looked down. Lily was standing in front of me.

She wore a small, gothic-style dress adorned with lace, looking like an exquisite porcelain doll. But her red eyes held no warmth.

"Aunt Vivienne sent me," she said, her tone icy, as if addressing a stranger. "It's time to cut the cake. It's made with the freshest Type A blood."

"Thank you for coming to tell me." I crouched down, trying to get a little closer to her.

She flinched, as if afraid of being contaminated. "Aunt Vivienne said you smell like a dead rat. You should stand farther away so you don't ruin everyone's appetite."

My heart clenched. This was the child I had defied the council to save, and now she was hurling the cruelest words at me.

"Lily," I reached out, my fingertips trembling as I tried to touch her golden curls.

"I'm sorry. For trapping you in this body that can never grow. But back then, I just wanted you to live..."

"I don't want to hear it!"

She shrieked, slapping my hand away. "I hate you! I hate being a monster who never gets to grow up! And you're always making Aunt Vivienne sad!"

With that, she turned and ran, shouting, "Aunt Vivienne! Aunt Vivienne!"

"Poor Isolde," a young vampire whispered nearby. "Even her own adopted daughter won't go near her."

"It's her own fault for being so cold and heartless. Vivienne is so gentle, always spending time with the child."

A bitter thought surfaced. Had I known it would come to this, perhaps I should have let her face her original fate.

I stood in the crowd, watching it all like an outsider. My husband, my daughter, my people, they all revolved around Vivienne. I was the one who was superfluous.

Even if I wanted to explain myself now, there was nothing to say. In their eyes, I would always be the one in the wrong.

After the party, I walked alone to the terrace of the highest tower.

"Silas." I called out to the loyal butler who had been hiding in the shadows.

"My lady." He knelt on one knee, his voice choked with emotion.

I pulled the deep red crystal from my bodice. "Tomorrow night, at moonrise, activate this and show it to Miles."

"My lady, are you certain..."

"Yes. It is, after all, the truth," I gave a weak smile. "Someone ought to hear a dead woman's last words."

I took out several sealed letters. "This one is for the Royal Court. This is for Lily. Don't give it to her until she is old enough to understand. By then, she will."

"My lady..." Silas's voice was trembling.

After arranging everything, I leaned against the railing, completely spent.

Fireworks lit up the distant sky, a celebration for Miles and Vivienne's coronation. How ironic. The last night of my life was spent celebrating their victory.

But strangely, the intense pain inside me was beginning to fade, replaced by a peculiar numbness.

"Just a few more minutes, Isolde," I told myself.

I knew that when the truth was revealed tomorrow, everything would change. But by then, I would already be ash.

This was my final, silent act of vengeance as a queen. I was betting my life that they would live forever in regret.

When the first ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and touched the back of my hand, I did not flinch.

I had removed the Daywalking Ring long ago, the Progenitor-blessed artifact that was the only one of its kind.

"Miles, Vivienne, and my dearest Lily."

A golden flame began to burn from my fingertips. There was no pain, only the warmth of release.

"May you, in your long, eternal lives, always remember the joy of tonight. Because starting tomorrow, the gates of hell will open for you."

At six in the morning, the first ray of sunlight broke through the clouds.

Isolde stood on the edge of the terrace, allowing the golden flames to consume her.

Her body disintegrated in the light, scattering into motes of starlight on the morning breeze.

Silas stood in the room, watching through the glass window, tears streaming down his face.

The once-proud queen met her end in the sun, a faint smile of release on her face.

At 8:00 a.m. sharp, he dialed Miles's private line.

Miles, asleep with Vivienne in his arms, suddenly shot awake.

An agonizing, soul-tearing pain pierced his chest without warning. The backlash from the severing of their blood bond had begun.

Before he could even process the wave of panic, the phone rang, its shrill sound piercing the air.

"Make it quick," Miles's voice was sharp, laced with a tremor he couldn't hide. "I'm busy."

"My lord, it is Silas."

The old butler's voice was terrifyingly calm.

"The lady... she has turned to ash."

"What are you talking about?" Miles's voice went shrill. "She was fine yesterday!"